


To Make Amends

by yansurnummu



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Deaf Character, First Meetings, Gen, Nerevarine but it's just two dumbasses in a trenchcoat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 19:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: Irinwe and Knives find that they are one and the same - outcasts, dreamers, from worlds that don't want them.(Snippets set during the events of TES3, in no particular order)





	To Make Amends

Knives loathed Balmora. 

He hated most cities, to be fair. The stench and squalor, the winding alleyways. But there was something about the Hlaalu town that grated on his nerves like nothing else.

Perhaps it was only because of how much time he'd regrettably spent there. The House mer never wanted his sword, too proud to enlist the help of an ashlander. Most of the work he ended up with was collecting debts for the Camonna Tong. He thought maybe he was going a little stir crazy for it.

He never liked Caius, either. The man always seemed like he was up to something, a little too sleazy for an old man with a bad habit. And besides, Knives hated owing favours. Some nights he wondered if he'd be better off just putting a knife between the old man's ribs and calling it done.

And yet, here he was, sharing a table at the South Wall with another one of Caius' errand runners. In his defense, he'd fallen victim to his own eager, curious nature the moment she approached him.

The moment she'd replied to his hastily scrawled note not with her lips, but with her hands, she had his undivided attention. It'd been far too long since he'd had the chance to communicate with someone comfortably.

She spelled her name _ Irinwe, _ though the sign sounded different in Knives' own tongue. Irinwe was deaf, she explained; and Knives explained more excitedly than he had in the past that he similarly could not speak. 

She asked him if _ Knives _was really his name, and he had to laugh. 

"No," he pressed his fingers to his thumb with a sad half-smile. "Just what folks here call me. No one wants to pronounce Velothi names."

"I could not speak it, so what would be the harm?" she gestured, a look of genuine curiosity on her face. Knives thought for a moment. 

"I was once of the Zainab tribe, to the east of Molag Mar," he signed before going back to his notebook, scrawling out words for her. "But I was cast out, and now I am mabrigash." 

Her mouth hung open a little, not quite certain of local signs. Knives turned the book around so she could read what he'd written. His common handwriting was rough, but mostly legible.

> _ Yahaz Talmahlku-nabi, Zainab (my name) _

A look of understanding came over her features, and when she looked back up at Knives she asked, "show me those again?"


End file.
